life and love in the convenience store (film: Clerks – Kevin Smith, 1994)

One of the significant cinematic phenomena of the 1990s was the success of several independent American films made on very low budgets. These films launched filmmakers who would go on to become household names, well-integrated into the industry, created interesting genres or niches, and taught major studios a few lessons in production economics. ‘Clerks‘, written and directed by Kevin Smith, is one such famous case. It was the debut feature film for the American director, who at the time was working in the very convenience store where the filming took place. The crew shot at night, after 11:00 PM, once the store had closed. The film caused a sensation at Sundance, where it won the top prize. Miramax acquired it, polished it slightly, and distributed it. Box office returns exceeded the initial $27,000 investment—raised through loans and the sale of part of Kevin Smith’s comic book collection—by more than a hundredfold. Whether viewed for the first time or revisited today, the film continues to delight audiences with its sincerity, freshness, and humor, bringing to the screen characters in whom most viewers can recognize themselves.

The screenwriter and director transforms financial constraints into a stylistic virtue. Clerks adheres to the famous classical dramatic principles regarding the unity of time and space. The duration of the story is less than the time it takes for the sun to revolve around the Earth (sic!); in reality, the entire story unfolds between the moment the protagonist—bearing a Renaissance name (Dante)—wakes up at dawn and the closing of the store (where most of the story takes place) near midnight. In contrast, the principle of unity of action—originally formulated by Aristotle—is not merely disregarded; it is systematically contradicted. We witness a day in the life of the convenience store, of Dante and his friend Randal, with all the fatigue, routine, customers, annoyances, and minor dramas of a life that seems utterly insignificant at first glance. Yet, gradually, a human mosaic takes shape, revealing characters we recognize—people we pass by and live alongside every day. There are fleeting romances and endless banter between friends trying to “kill” 14 or 15 hours of unfulfilling work each day. We learn that our protagonists love or yearn for love, that they hold memories and principles, and that they strive to find meaning in a monotonous, dead-end existence. As viewers, it is impossible not to empathize.

Without necessarily rebelling against previous generations of filmmakers, Kevin Smith does in this film what French New Wave directors had done over thirty years earlier. In an anti-Hollywood fashion—devoid of unnecessary embellishments—he transforms everyday surroundings into a film set and selects or creates his protagonists from the people around us. He shoots in black and white, using framing that prioritizes authenticity over aesthetics. ‘Clerks‘ marks the debut of a cinematic universe that turns a part of New Jersey (where the filmmaker was born and raised) into a recurring dramatic setting, while bringing to life—for the first time—characters and archetypes that would reappear in Kevin Smith’s subsequent films. It is a very American film, yet what unfolds on screen could happen anywhere. It is a social drama, but an implicit, not an explicit one. There is a great deal of dialogue—the characters often define themselves through how they speak and what they say—but the film is visually fascinating as well. As viewers, we constantly are exposed to one of three perspectives, each angled 90 degrees from the others—much like in a shop, where we might look toward the counter as customers, from behind it as salespeople, or along its length as observing visitors. A love story emerges without fanfare or apparent intent, though not necessarily one involving just two protagonists, as in conventional tales. Just as in real life, any significant narrative thread must be discovered amidst the many fragments of existence—be they mundane, comic, dramatic, or tragic. The mini-universe of the small convenience shop becomes the vast universe of life itself. The only universe.

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